


Bait and Switch

by sidewinder



Series: Games Demons Play [4]
Category: Brimstone
Genre: M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-19
Updated: 2012-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 19:25:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidewinder/pseuds/sidewinder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The devil keeps pushing. This time Zeke pushes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bait and Switch

**Author's Note:**

> The following story is written entirely for fun and not for any profit. No attempt is made to supersede or infringe upon the copyrights held by any television or film companies upon which this story is based.

"Hi, honey, I'm home!"

Ezekiel turned his head at that irritating, familiar voice and found the devil sprawled on his motel room bed. It was not a welcome sight, even if the off-white suit the devil was wearing was a surprisingly good look for him.

"You like the outfit? It's a shame white's not really my most appropriate color. So, enjoying the warm weather here, Ezekiel? I should think it'd give you quite fond memories of home."

The detective turned back to the TV, not granting his uninvited guest more than the smallest grimace in greeting.

"Well! I see someone's in a mood," the devil sniffed. "Was it something I said? Something I did? You know good communication _is_ the cornerstone to a solid relationship. I heard that on 'Oprah' yesterday. Or was it 'Sally Jesse'..."

"Are you just here to annoy me, or is there some actual purpose to this visit?" Zeke was still seething from the last time he'd seen the devil, several days ago at the truck stop. He hadn't suffered any more of those damned erotic dreams since then, thank God, but he'd still had a hard time keeping the devil off his mind. Half the time Zeke was thinking about how much he wanted to kill him. The rest of the time he was thinking about how much he wanted to fuck him. Both lines of thought left him feeling completely disgusted.

And all the while, he was stuck in Albuquerque on a vague clue from the devil that he'd find his next quarry here. The newspaper clipping Satan had given him was nothing but an ad for a local restaurant. Zeke had eaten there three times now, queried the wait-staff, even followed a few home and staked-out the place after hours...all to no avail. Everything seemed perfectly normal, and so far he'd turned up nothing that seemed remotely related to any demonic activity. There had been no unusual crime reports in the news--no gruesome deaths, nothing that he'd heard about from asking around that seemed out of the ordinary.

"C'mon, I'm drawing a big zero on the demon-radar for this town. Your little clue's turned into a dead-end. How about for once you tell me a bit about who I'm here to try to capture? Just a name. Would that be so hard?" Zeke asked.

"Maybe if you were out patrolling the streets instead of holed up watching the boob tube, you'd be faring better. I didn't send you back here to become a couch potato."

"Maybe if you didn't always have to play games with me, I could get this job done a lot faster."

Satan's answering laughter grated on Stone's nerves, as always. "But you're so much fun to play with, Ezekiel, why on Earth would I want to stop now?"

Zeke went back to watching the basketball game on the TV, trying his best to ignore his visitor. He wasn't going to let the devil bait him tonight--and he sure as Hell wasn't going to acknowledge the part of himself that wanted to throttle the fallen angel, pin him down against the bed and silence him with kisses until...

No. No, he was _not_ going to think about _that_. Not on his life...or death. Whatever this was, besides a never-ending nightmare.

Satan let out a weary sigh. "I thought I'd come here and give you a chance to apologize for your little temper tantrum the other day. But I see you're intent on sulking and being stubborn. You can't keep denying your feelings, Ezekiel. Don't you see how it's interfering with your ability to complete your assigned task?"

"Hey, don't blame me. _You_ were the one who started this! On Christmas Eve...that wasn't me."

"Like Hell it wasn't. I was only offering you what you already wanted. It's all there, in your soul--rage, anger, desire..." Satan got off the bed, and kneeled close to Ezekiel. He reached out, his hand lightly brushing through Zeke's short hair. Zeke wanted to close his eyes and lean into that inflaming touch, but he forced himself to sit still and calm, to not even look directly at the creature so close to him.

"...like right now," the devil continued in his rough, seductive voice. "You want me so badly and yet you resist. Why is it so difficult for you to admit what you want?" He kept caressing Zeke's hair as he said, "Do you know how many souls have _begged_ me for what I've given you? You couldn't even begin to imagine. I take such insubordination and ingratitude from you, Ezekiel, you should be grateful I like you enough to tolerate it."

The devil pulled back his hand and sat down on the floor, waiting and watching, his gaze so intense Zeke could feel it on him without even turning his head to face him. Zeke still said nothing, did nothing but sit and stare at the flickering TV screen.

"Enough of this crap!" the devil spit out. The TV sparked and the screen went black. "It's all because of your ex-wife, isn't it? When are you going to get it through your head that you need to let _go_ of her?"

"Widow. She's my widow," Zeke corrected.

"Either way, let's be honest, shall we? Let's say you manage to complete your task and earn your second chance at life. Do you _really_ believe that you're going to be able to go back and find the happiness you once had with her again?"

"Yes."

"Do you? Honestly? You really think that you'll be able to walk back into her life after all these years and make as if nothing's happened?"

"Of course not. I can't change what happened...how much time's passed. But if we love each other enough, we can work things out."

"Ifyou love each other enough. I hear some doubt in there, Mr. Stone. Admit it--you couldn't even work things out after she was raped, how are you going to work out being a murderer? A man who has spent fifteen years in Hell while she dealt with not only being _violated_ , but also losing the man she loved, only months later? That's an awful lot to 'work out'. Oh, and let's not forget your little tryst with Ash, while we're at it...though, come to think of it, you both gave that little bitch a spin, didn't you? Well, I suppose that'll give you something you can reminisce about together..."

Zeke stood up and went to retrieve his coat from the closet. "Where are you going?" the devil asked.

"I don't have to listen to this. I'm going out to try to do my job, since you're not being any help." He slipped on his coat, turned around and walked toward the door. The devil blocked the exit--he just stood there shaking his head, laughing.

"You can only run from the truth for so long, Mr. Stone."

"Like I should listen to you about the 'truth'. You're the Prince of Lies. And right now you're in my way, so would you mind?"

Zeke stepped forward. Satan didn't budge. "In your way, or right where you want me?" he asked with a smug smile.

That was it. Something about that damn smile on top of everything else made Zeke explode.

He grabbed the devil by the shoulders and slammed him against the door. Satan's eyes flashed with momentary surprise, but his smile returned quickly. "That's it, Ezekiel! That's the spirit! Get tough. Get angry! Or are you just in the mood to play rough tonight?"

The devil's gleeful encouragement actually served to cool Zeke's rage. He realized he was letting himself be provoked and act out in anger--exactly what Satan wanted him to do, no doubt. What he had to do instead was remain calm and not lose control of his temper, no matter what the devil said or did. He breathed in slowly, gathering up as much of his rage as he could, and tried to expel it all when he exhaled. The trick partially worked; he didn't want to strangle Lucifer now...well, maybe a little bit, still. But being this close, touching him, it brought back all of his thoughts of passion, and what he wanted to do now more than anything was kiss him. He was so close, so very close it would only require the slightest tilt of the head, and...

No. Yes. Damn, this was crazy! _He_ was going crazy.

Zeke blinked his eyes and tried to focus. He couldn't deny his desire--that insane hunger for the devil's touch that had gone unsatisfied for so long. The only thing that kept it under control at all was his stubborn will and his anger. His fingers, dug deep into the devil's shoulders, relaxed slightly, though he did not entirely let go--the hunger would not let him relinquish that small contact. Satan didn't push him away, nor make any effort to free himself from his Zeke's weakened grasp. He just stood there staring at his servant expectantly--though precisely what he was expecting, Zeke couldn't guess.

And so Zeke stood, frozen with indecision, the devil in his grasp and pinned to the wall.

At his mercy.

His cock throbbed painfully at that thought, and at the other thoughts it quickly led to. Satan begging for _his_ touch, now _that_ was what Zeke would love to see happen. To turn the tables and see if he could make the devil as mad with need as he was, give him a taste of his own wicked ways. But could he do that? The way the devil was just standing there, not pushing Zeke away, maybe it was even what _he_ wanted Zeke to do...even if he could never admit to it.

The smile lines around Satan's eyes faded under Zeke's continued scrutiny, as the detective tightened his grip on his shoulders once more. The devil said nothing, not as Zeke leaned in closer, close enough to kiss him, his lips just hovering above his captive's face. Zeke tilted his head, not quite brushing his lips over the devil's cheek as he did so. He could smell him, already _taste_ him on his lips. His mouth was dry, his cock hard, and he was determined that there was no way the devil would escape him now without giving him what he needed first. Yes, _needed_. He'd been aching for it for too long. He let out his breath, slowly, and caught Satan's almost inaudible gasp as the warm breath fell on his skin.

Zeke smiled.

"Exactly what do you think you're doing, Ezekiel?"

"Playing a game. I thought you liked games. Except I'm setting the rules for a change." Zeke brought his mouth to the devil's ear and continued in a hushed voice, "You're always the one in control, but not this time. I'm thinking maybe that's what you're dying for--somewhere safe to lose control." He let his lips brush against the devil's ear as he added, "Someone safe...like me."

Zeke was answered with laughter, though it sounded rather nervous to his ears. "You'd presume to know what _I_ want?" the devil challenged, though still he made no move to push Zeke away.

"Am I'm wrong?" Zeke ran his lips over the devil's earlobe, then pulled the soft flesh between his teeth. A flick of his tongue, then, against the sensitive skin and he got the answer he was looking for.

A whimper.

Zeke pulled back, slightly, needing a moment to calm himself before going any further. He could feel the tension and energy in the air around them, so strong he wasn't sure he really could control it. He was playing with fire, he knew, challenging the devil like he never had before. But he was determined to see this through. If he didn't get _some_ control over their relationship and what had been going on between them since Christmas Eve, he was going to go insane.

He pressed closer against Satan's body, rubbed against him, groin to groin. He could smell smoke and burning fabric now, as the heat between them became more than their clothes could take. Tiny bursts of flame danced over their bodies, sparks that barely registered on Zeke's already overcharged senses. His lips still hovered, barely brushing against the devil's ear, then his neck, back to his cheek, never quite touching as he slowly studied every inch of his captive's face and challenged him to break free. By the time Zeke's mouth finally approached the devil's lips, Satan was shaking, his entire body taut like a spring stretched to its limit, ready to snap. Zeke met his gray eyes and found rage, desire...and fear.

The fear gave Ezekiel pause, and took some of the edge off his still simmering anger. "Trust me," Zeke whispered, then he placed just the lightest kiss on the devil's lips. "Do you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone."

"Trust me," Zeke insisted. He kissed him again, running his tongue over the devil's upper lip. God, to taste his mouth again! The dreams had not been nearly so good as this. Satan moaned against his mouth, the vibration travelling down from him lips all the way to his toes. Zeke felt the devil's hands reaching for his sides; in a rush of speed Zeke released Satan's shoulders, grabbed his hands and slammed them back over his head, against the door. For a moment the devil's eyes flashed red with anger, but Zeke insisted, "Trust me," and silenced any further protests with another kiss.

Gradually, the tensed body he held pressed to the wall began to relax, to yield to his control. Zeke grew more confident and daring, even as he struggled not to lose himself in the excitement of finally having what his dreams had taunted him with for so long. There was no worrying about whether this was right or wrong, now, there was only the pleasure he'd ached for, and the thrill of this game of dominance. His kisses became hard and violent--he wanted blood. He wanted to leave _his_ mark on the devil's body, his own tattoos, written with teeth and nails. He bit down on Satan's shoulder until he broke skin and tasted the rich metallic flavor of blood on his lips. So the devil _could_ bleed...or at least create the illusion that he did. Zeke licked and swallowed, bittersweet fire rushing down his throat as he did so.

"Stop..." Satan panted. "You don't...know what you're doing. You can't--"

"Shut up," Zeke hissed, silencing the devil with another kiss. "Leave if you want me to stop. Go ahead. What's stopping you? Only the fact that you want this so bad."

The devil glared angrily at him. He said nothing, just glared.

"I thought so," Zeke said. He let go of the devil's hands, grabbed him by the waist and spun him around. "Now...get on your knees."

Zeke held his breath, waiting to see if he would be obeyed or punished for the order. After a long pause, the devil responded with the former. His seething gaze never left Ezekiel's eyes he dropped to the floor, his lips now mere inches from Zeke's erection.

"Suck me," the servant demanded of his master.

Again a pause, an angry glare, and yet the devil did as he was commanded, wetting his lips with his tongue and then wrapping them around Zeke's cock.

Zeke nearly came right then and there, just from disbelief of what was happening. The devil, his eternal tormentor, doing exactly as Zeke ordered him to do? He felt a giddy rush of triumph, but then wondered if he had really won this battle at all. Had Satan perhaps tricked Zeke once more into giving him exactly what he wanted?

But as the devil sucked harder, skillfully taking Zeke down his throat, the detective decided it didn't really matter. Not at all. Not in the least. He let the pleasure wash over him, the physical sensations, the sight of the devil on his knees before him...incredible. He loved every second of it.

Loved it _too_ much. After a few short minutes he knew he was going to come any second, and it was much too early for the game to be finished.

"Stop," Zeke ordered. "Stand up." The devil did as he was told and rose to his feet. He stood expectantly before Ezekiel, his wet lips very tempting...his erection glistening with pre-cum even more so. Ezekiel held back from kissing him, or doing anything else, and pondered aloud, "What am I going to do with you now...?" He reached out to touch the devil's cheek; Satan closed his eyes at the caress. Zeke felt him trembling under his fingertips; he was so wound up and in need of release that Zeke felt certain just the single right touch would set him off. Zeke wasn't doing much better himself.

"You'd love me to fuck you right now, wouldn't you?" he asked, running his left hand down the devil's chest. "Answer me," he demanded, when Satan didn't immediately respond.

"Yes..." The word came out as a desperate hiss.

Zeke smiled, as he stopped his hand just barely above the devil's groin. Satan opened his eyes, his earlier defiance replaced now with a begging look. Begging! It was almost too good to believe. Zeke pushed hard enough with his hand that the devil flew back and landed on the bed with a heavy thud. Before he could recover his breath Zeke landed on top of him, pinning him to the bed under his larger frame.

As he did so, the detective felt the intensity of the devil's power, how close Satan was to losing his nerve and needing to regain his control. The bed sheets started to scorch beneath them from the heat, and Zeke suddenly imagined them burning the entire motel down if they weren't careful. He forced himself to slow down, to ease up on his grasp, just slightly, just enough to soothe the devil's near panic. "Trust me..." he said once more, as he trailed kisses down Satan's throat, over his chest, back up to his mouth. He kissed him and touched him, possessed him with nothing but gentle touches, far more gentle than it had ever been in his dreams, or during their one previous encounter.

And it worked; straining muscles relaxed under his fingertips, heavy breathing turned into pleading moans. "Please..."

Please? When had the devil ever said "Please?" to him before? "Please what?" Zeke asked.

"Please...do it. Now! Fuck..."

"Fuck you? Is that what you want?"

"Yes! Yes..."

"Then I'd better give the devil his due," Zeke said. Not that he'd ever done this before in his life--or death--but now was not the time to get nervous. He didn't think the devil would mind if things were a little...rough.

Soon Zeke had him on his back, legs raised, waiting, urging him on. He couldn't hold back any longer; he went on instinct, pushing ahead, pushing _inside_. Inside the devil, pushing deeper into a heat that was so intense it burned Zeke to his soul.

Satan moaned and closed his eyes.

"Keep them open," Zeke insisted. "Open your eyes, or I'll stop."

Satan opened his eyes and looked up at Ezekiel, still begging, desperate, and Zeke watched his every expression as he pushed deeper, until he was completely inside the devil's body.

Inside his soul.

The feeling was...

Unreal.

It wasn't fucking. It was...

Hell, he didn't know what it was. Nothing for mortal words, barely able to be understood by mortal thought and feeling. It was all heat, heat, heat

and fire  
and anger  
and pain  
and pride  
and desperation  
and beauty  
and tragedy  
and torture  
and death  
and life  
and love--

Love.

Love that _hurt_ , that was pain and aching and loneliness and loss and was so awful, he wanted it to stop, but he couldn't stop it, and he hated it but it was there.

Love.

It wore his face.

The sensations surrounded him, threatened to consume him, his soul screaming for release from its faux-human shell under the stress of this joining. Looking into the devil's eyes could be horror enough--staring into his soul was more than Zeke's spirit could nearly bear.

And yet he couldn't stop. He just couldn't stop.

Zeke's physical release came as almost an afterthought, something he was only dimly aware of. He heard a cry, not his own but the devil's, echoing all around him. The heat became a brilliant white light, brighter than anything he'd ever seen, except on the day that he'd died.

The light was the last thing he saw.

* * *

Damn it, Zeke cursed to himself. He'd blacked out again.

"You know, Ezekiel, your soul could have been completely destroyed by that little game of yours--blown right out through those fragile eyes, shattered to a million pieces. What an ugly end that would have been."

Zeke's vision cleared and he found the devil lying next to him, naked, half-covered with the still-smoldering bed sheets. "I didn't know you liked to play so close to the edge before," Satan continued, "but I'll keep that in mind for the future."

Zeke had the worst hangover of his life--at least that was what it felt like. His throat was raw, every joint and muscle ached, and his ears were even ringing.

"Foolish Ezekiel," the devil sighed, reaching out to stroke Zeke's hair. "I know you meant well, and I do dearly appreciate your efforts to please me. But there's a reason I have to stay in control...if I don't, I could destroy you entirely. And that would be such a shame."

"Because you love me. Don't try to deny it--I felt it."

"I wonder if you can really understand any of what you felt."

"Enough that I...actually feel some pity for you, now. You're all twisted up inside. You hate, and you enjoy making others suffer, because everything that's supposed to make people feel good only makes you feel pain. Love hurts you the worst."

"Love always hurts. Mortals are just too stubborn and caught up in silly romantic dreams to see what love really is. A curse. Love makes us betray our best interests, all in the name of an emotion that's never done any of us any good." He paused as he trailed his fingers over Ezekiel's face, tracing his lips, his cheeks. He sighed and shook his head. "And I do so hate pity, therefore if you say that to me again I'm going to have to hurt you. Badly. At the moment, I honestly don't feel like doing that."

Zeke smiled, and he didn't resist when the devil slipped closer and kissed him. Not a hard kiss, only a lingering one that seemed to somehow ease away the aches and pains in his body, warming without arousing. Pleasant, comforting, healing...nothing he'd come to expect from the devil.

But the devil was, if anything, always full of surprises.

Afterwards, they held each other in silence. Zeke wished he could make sense of everything he had seen and felt, everything he was feeling now. "I don't love you," he said, with some apology in his voice.

"I know. Perhaps you will in time, perhaps you'll simply come to hate me even more than you already do."

"You've been nothing but a complete bastard to me."

"It's my nature. The devil can't change his ways, dear boy, I've been set in them for far too long."

"So are you going to give me a decent hint about who I'm supposed to hunt down next or not?"

Satan picked himself up from where he'd been laying against Zeke's chest and favored him with a mischievous smile. He ran one hand down Zeke's right arm, and circled his fingers slowly around a mark on the underside of his elbow. "This one," he said.

"That's all?"

"That's more than enough. The rules of thisgame haven't changed, Detective, no matter what else may have happened. You still have to do your job on your own. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important business to attend to."

"Someone else to torture?"

"No, 'Touched by an Angel' is on in ten minutes. I have to stay on top of the opposition's propaganda. Happy hunting, Ezekiel!"

A warm rush of air filled the room, and then the devil was gone. Zeke sat up, gazed around the room and saw the miserable state it was in: the crack in the door where he'd nearly pushed the devil through it, the pile of ash where their clothes had burned away, the dead TV, the bed sheets yellowed with sulfur-sweat and charred black in places. He decided he'd do best to make like the devil and vacate the premises as well...though of course, he had no clothes at the moment to wear.

"Terrific," he sighed.

A few seconds later there was a flash of light--and a pile of familiar worn and weathered attire fell to the floor in front of him.

"Thanks," he said, glancing down. At least he figured it was the devil's work. He cast a sheepish glance upward, too, just in case.

He dressed quickly and got ready to hit the streets, studying the mark on his arm the devil had indicated and hoping it would lead to some useful trail tonight. He felt strangely optimistic that it would.

But first, he thought he would go grab something to eat. He suddenly had the worst craving for Devil's food cake.


End file.
